


home by now

by liketheroad



Category: Disney RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-27
Updated: 2010-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 14:10:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4669547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liketheroad/pseuds/liketheroad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Kevin and Danielle get married in Spain and Joe and Nick decide to stick around for awhile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	home by now

It was probably a little fucked up, but when Kevin got engaged he asked Nick and Joe before he asked Danielle. 

Okay. So maybe it was a lot fucked up.

But it didn't feel that way, not really. Not to Joe. Kevin was never going to make a promise like marriage to someone and then go right back on tour. He and Danielle were on that track, committed to each other long before Kevin decided he was ready to pop the question, and Joe knew waiting had been all about the timing of the band, finding a time in their careers when Kevin would reasonably be able to take the time off he'd feel duty bound to. Not like it was a sacrifice, not exactly, but just... Kevin was big on doing the right thing. The honorable thing. Marriage was definitely a big one like that for him, and Joe wasn't surprised, knowing that, when Kevin came to him and Nick and said, "Guys, I'm thinking now is the time to ask Danielle to get married." It wasn't a business proposal, exactly, but it kind of was. It meant taking six months, maybe a year off if Kevin could get it. Time to be a husband, time to make a home together. 

And he didn't go to their father, or the label, didn't go to any of the dozens of people that helped run the juggernaut of their lives. He went to Joe and Nick, because they were a band, but they were brothers first, and Joe knew that for Kevin, asking for their permission - their blessing - first was the most important thing to him. They'd lived every day of their lives and careers in a row of three, and one of them couldn't ever make a decision without having it effect the other two. A change that big in Kevin's life meant a change almost as astronomical in Nick and Joe's, and Kevin wasn't one to leap into that without giving them a heads-up, without giving them room to be selfish, to ask him to wait another year, to put that part of his life on hold for them a little bit longer. Just one number one CD, one more world tour, one step closer to the artistic credibility Nick had been tirelessly building for them year after year.

In asking them, Kevin was giving Nick and Joe any number of ways out, and Joe knew it was an important moment, maybe one of the most important in Kevin's life, so he did the only thing he knew how to not screw it up. He called Kevin a wimp for checking with them first instead of just manning up and asking the girl he'd loved practically forever, and he saw the way the nervous tension bled out of Kevin's shoulders, his face relaxing into the habitually exasperated yet amused grin Joe knew so well. Joe had lots of smiles just for Nick, and Nick had lots of smiles just for Joe, but that one of Kevin's was Joe's alone and he was grateful for it.

He leaned into Nick's shoulder a little, silently begging him to react well, to smile and tell Kevin to break a leg, to tell him they were behind him 100%, all the way, and Nick didn't disappoint. He got up and clapped Kevin on the shoulder, telling him it was about time, telling him to go get her and lock that down.

Joe got up too, and for a minute they stood together as they had so many times before, the three of them in a semi-circle against the world, and then Kevin broke away to see about a girl, leaving Joe and Nick standing alone.

\---

Danielle said yes, of course, and for weeks there was no turning off their grins. She and Kevin held hands everywhere, as they always did, but there was a glow between them that hadn't been there before. She was with them more, too, days streaming together as their last tour wound down and they started replacing promotion and photo shoots and concerts with wedding plans and press releases about a Jonas Brothers hiatus.

Joe watched with affectionate amusement as Kevin applied every ounce of his business savvy and endless obsession with number crunching to his wedding plans, watched as Danielle sat back and let Kevin mastermind their Special Day. He had a clipboard and a dozen folders on his computer: flowers, music, guests, locations. He walked around having phone conversations with the wedding planner he hired, waving his hands and occasionally shouting about whether or not the boots he wanted to wear would match the scarves for the groomsmen or if they should have more than one vegetarian option for the reception.

The biggest debate, however, quickly became the _where_ of the thing. Kevin played around with lots of ideas, having it back in Texas at the family estate, or closer to Danielle's family in New Jersey, having it in LA where Kevin was currently based... the list went on and on. But none of it was really making Kevin happy, Joe could see that from his inability to settle, and Danielle was too laid back about the whole thing to voice a preference that would have decided it for Kevin in an instant, so Joe decided to take it upon himself as part of one of his co-best-man duties to prevent Kevin from having an aneurysm about it and find a place.

It wasn't that hard, really. Joe actually thought it was pretty obvious. In all their years of touring, all the countries they'd visited, he'd never seen Kevin fall in love with a place as much as Barcelona. The coastline, the people, the chaotic vitality of the city as a whole, the heat; Kevin had instantly become addicted to it all. He never wanted to sleep, whenever they went there. Always wanted to be moving, exploring, finding new places, meeting new people. And Danielle had met up with them there on more than one tour - Joe couldn't remember a time he'd seen them happier, walking side by side in the sunshine, surrounded by people but somehow set apart, their linked hands keeping them together.

So he talked it over with Nick, just to be sure, and after Nick said, "Duh," Joe went to Kevin with the idea.

Kevin took a little while to sell on the idea, hemming and hawing about the logistics of it all, getting the guests out there, but Joe eventually cut him off saying, "Dude, that's part of the beauty of it. When you think about it this is like, the only way you're going to be able to keep this thing to anything near a manageable size. Half of Disney is going to want to come otherwise, never mind the rest of the industry. This way it can just be family, and your real friends. I doubt you'll escape the pap, but nothing's perfect, right? And come on, you guys love it there. You said you felt like Barcelona gave you a _hug_ , the first time we landed there. You know you love it. And Danielle loves it too."

Joe made a "you know I'm right" hand gesture, and Kevin just stared at him, unblinking, until Joe asked, mildly defensively, "What?"

Kevin shook his head slowly. "Nothing, I just. I don't know how I didn't see it."

Joe grinned. "I don't know. Maybe 'cause you've been trying to plan everything else ever for this thing and you got a little overwhelmed?" Voice light, teasing.

Kevin smiled back and said, "Maybe. Maybe because I forgot I always do my best thinking with my brothers."

Joe kicked Kevin a little, not hiding the pleased change in his smile, when he said, "Yeah, maybe 'cause of that."

\---

Things were more collaborative after that. Kevin stopped trying to micromanage every single detail, and started leaning on Nick and Joe to help, started pestering Danielle more about her opinion. She loved the idea of going to Spain, and Joe felt even more smug after she drew him aside and hugged him, whispering, "Thank you for stopping him from going insane before I even get to walk down the aisle," into his ear.

Kevin stayed mostly in charge of the clothing, the colour scheme and the menu, but Nick took over arranging the music and Joe co-opted the guest list. He designed the invitations with Kevin's help, but also spent countless hours phoning people, some to invite personally, some to explain why they weren't invited, why Kevin and Danielle still loved them, why they were still totally welcome to donate to the array of charities they selected in lieu of receiving actual wedding gifts. Frankie, at 11, refused to be the ring bearer, no matter how awesome the hat designs Joe and Kevin came up with for him, but he helped by distracting their mother enough to let Kevin run things his way, and Joe recognized that as possibly the most important job of all. 

In addition to the regular planning, Nick and Joe spent time almost every night working with Kevin on the song he was writing for Danielle. He'd been a little embarrassed about talking to them about the idea at first, but Joe had once again been able to diffuse the situation with his soothing charm.

Or, well, Kevin said, "You don't think that's a little too _Full House_?"

And then Joe said, "Your face is a little too _Full House_."

And after Kevin said, "Joe, no one but you has used that expression since 2009," and rolled his eyes, Joe knew he'd won. 

Kevin started relaxing about it after that, showing them parts of the song. Joe was clearly the best brother of all time.

It was going to be a really good song, too. Joe could feel it, and even though it was mostly about Danielle, and her and Kevin together, Joe liked that he and Nick were apart of it. He didn't know why, they were only taking time off, not ending, but sometimes, gathered together with Kevin and Nick at night, writing music and singing it together, Joe felt like it was the last time.

\---

They flew in a week and a half before the wedding, so Kevin could freak out in his favorite place on earth and the rest of the wedding party could go about putting the last touches together while he did so. 

Nick and Joe spent four nights in a row all but sleepless, working on the song - which was about the only thing Kevin could focus on for more than two seconds by that point - and picking up the slack where Kevin had dropped it. 

Danielle helped, of course, but she was rocking her own set of nerves, and Joe loved her, but he didn't so much know how to help with that. Danielle was a cool girl, she had become family long ago, but she was Kevin's, and the two of them had always kept things between them so private, even from Nick and Joe, that in some ways he didn't feel like he knew her. But she made Kevin happy, happier than anything, and for that alone Joe knew he would be proud to call her his sister.

\---

They didn't throw Kevin a bachelor party, that wasn't not what Kevin was about, but the night before the wedding Nick and Joe took him out driving along up the coast in the convertible Nick rented, and they drove too fast with the top down, their voices blending together and getting caught on the wind.

They stopped for food and to stretch their legs, and Kevin looked down at his hand, the ring they'd worn together for so many years, and he smiled at his brothers, flanked at his sides.

"It's been an amazing ride," he said simply.

Nick smiled back, looking older even than his 19 years, and said, "Next one's going to be even better."

\---

Anyone who told you Joe cried when Kevin and Danielle exchanged their vows was a total liar. 

But anyone who said that he leaned into Nick, their sides pressing together so firmly Joe couldn't tell who was holding who up, anyone who said their hands linked together, just for a second, just one reassuring squeeze after Kevin said _I do_ , well, that person wouldn't be telling anything but the truth.

\---

It was possible they all cried a little, during the performance of Danielle's song. It was a ballad, just a simple thing, but Joe knew it had grown into more that in all their heads. It wasn't even just about Kevin and Danielle anymore. It was about the four of them, about Nick and Joe giving Kevin away to Danielle, about letting him go, just a little.

As the song ended Joe took Kevin's guitar from him, saying nothing as he watched Kevin walk from the small stage, taking Danielle's hand in his, moving together to the center of the dance floor. Nick and Joe started playing something else, Nick on piano and Joe on guitar, finally playing as well as he'd wanted to for years. Joe's heart swelled in his chest, watching Kevin dance with his wife, but when thoughts overwhelmed him, jumbled happiness and bittersweetness in his chest, it was turning to Nick, still standing securely across from him on stage, that helped Joe to breathe again.

\---

The reception was officially off the chain. In Joe's opinion. 

After dancing with Danielle, Kevin came back on stage with Nick and Joe to play a few more songs, even indulging in Joe's sudden desire to play a quick rendition of the _Year 3000_. They kicked Kevin off stage again so they could give Kevin's toast to the groom together, voices overlapping with favorite memories and their oldest inside jokes. Once they finished in a flurry of clapping and clinking of classes, Joe and Nick got off stage, the rock-country fusion band Nick had found came on, and then the party really got started. People danced, laughed, drank, and everywhere Joe looked he saw friends, family. People he loved and people he knew loved Kevin and Danielle. It was a great time, and for a few hours Joe gave himself up to it, dancing with anyone and everyone, telling jokes too loud and balancing champagne glasses on his forehead. 

Eventually, though, he realized he hadn't seen Nick in at least an hour, and he broke away from Demi and a smattering of Danielle's cousins to find him. It didn't take long, Joe always knew how to find Nick in a crowded room, and sure enough, there he was sitting in a chair at the back of the dance hall they'd rented, his jacket slung over his shoulder, tie loosened.

Joe felt a flush rise in his cheeks, but he told himself it was just from dancing.

He strode over to Nick and sat down in the empty chair beside him.

Nick stayed quiet, but he pressed the toe of his shoe against Joe's.

Joe stretched his arms out expansively and said, "Great party."

Nick nodded solemnly. "He looks so happy."

Joe smiled, leaning in to catch what was going on under the soft tone of Nick's voice. "This is gonna be good for him." He strung the words along in a carefully leading tone, but Nick didn't give him anything more to work with, just nodded again.

Silence filled up the space between them for a time, until Nick got up and said, "Want to get some air?"

Joe got up and followed without pause, putting a hand against the back of Nick's neck for a beat as they walked.

They stepped out onto the balcony, and Joe heaved in a sigh, filling his lungs up with fresh night air.

Nick leaned against the banister of the balcony and said, "I like it here," turning back to Joe with a smile. It was an asking smile, so Joe took his best guess.

"We should stick around a little longer. Enjoy the city without constantly having to attend to groomzilla."

Nick laughed, light and natural, and Joe felt relief in his chest.

He didn't say anything though, so Joe pushed a little further, sure now this was what Nick wanted. "We can stay at the hotel, or rent a place for a couple of days, just relax a bit."

Nick stayed quiet for a long time before answering, "Yeah, sure. Just a couple of days."

\---

Their suite at the wedding hotel was booked up right after their scheduled check-out, so Nick worked on finding them a place to stay while Joe helped Kevin and Danielle sort through the gifts they'd been given, trying to decide which ones to keep and which ones to return or donate. People had given them a lot of blenders, and blenders were awesome, but Kevin learned that long ago, and as such, already had one. But some people were just wedding-gift purists like that. They also got three toaster ovens.

"I call this one," Joe said, pointing at it triumphantly.

Kevin made a face. "You already have one of those back home."

Joe raised a finger wisely, "Yes, but not _here_. How will I toast my Spanish bagels, Kevin? _How_?"

Kevin made a different face and looked at Danielle. She shrugged with her eyebrows and Kevin smiled at her, because apparently that was the sort of thing that was adorable if you were a newlywed. Joe didn't plan to find out for sure.

"Why do you need one here, Joe? We're going on our honeymoon, and _you're_ going home."

"You'd think that, wouldn't you! But, in fact, Nick and I are way craftier than that, and have brilliantly figured out a way to turn your wedding into an awesome excuse for a Spanish vacation." He considered throwing in some nonsense Spanish in there for emphasis, but couldn't think of anything that wasn't junk food related, and decided against it.

Kevin looked oddly unsettled by this turn of events as it was, so Joe figured it was just as well.

He and Danielle shared another look Joe couldn't interpret, and he started humming loudly as he continued sorting through presents, doing his best to pretend he couldn't still feel Kevin eying him worriedly over the large pile of gifts between them.

\---

Nick found them a beach house that belonged to some professor who was on sabbatical somewhere in the US, and told Joe they could have it for a week, "Or maybe a bit longer, whatever we end up feeling like. I guess 'cause it's the off season he was really having trouble finding people to rent it."

They'd already hugged their parents and Frankie goodbye at the airport that morning, and Kevin and Danielle had left the night before, so there was no one there to raise a suspicious eyebrow at this possibly dubious statement. Joe shrugged happily, threw an arm over Nick's shoulders, and said, "Let's go paint the town red."

\---

"Painting the town red" ended up entailing collapsing with exhaustion at the nearest coffee stand, drinking espresso until they were practically seeing double, and then wandering back to the hotel to schlep all their bags into Nick's rental car before heading down the coast towards the beach house. When they drove up, Joe startled a bit, turning to Nick in the driver's seat, demanding, "You call this a _house_?"

It was more like a villa. It was one story, but sprawling, the slanted terracotta rooftops of several wings of the house sloping together, huge windows looking out onto the coast behind them as they approached. 

Nick stayed silent, a small smile playing on his lips as Joe gaped. There was a long porch running along the west side of the house, and there were grape vines growing up a trellis on the other side.

Nick parked the car calmly, but was slow to go out, eyes flitting between Joe and the house. "I think this is going to be really good - fun." His voice was all confidence, but there was uncertainty in Nick's smile.

Joe grinned, jumping out of the car without opening the door, tossing the words, "Of course it is, this was my idea," over his shoulder and not needing to turn back to see the change in Nick's smile.

\---

Nick started talking about the eight million different things he wanted to do while they were there before Joe even got his shoes off after they got in the door. They'd been in Barcelona together before, of course, four times in the last five years alone, but that was always touring. Everything had always been so tightly scheduled, every moment and interaction managed and crowded together with a million other things. They'd only ever really seen the city in snatches, little moments along the way when they'd look out the window of their bus or hotel room and see the buildings and people that surrounded them. So Joe wasn't surprised that Nick came prepared for their impromptu vacation with a mental list a mile long of things he wanted to do and see. That was just how Nick was. Never leaving anything all the way up to chance, always trying to find ways to control even his spontaneity. 

That was Nick all over, and Joe loved him for it. But Joe? All Joe wanted was to sleep. To sleep and wake up whenever he felt like it, to wander around in nothing but boxers, to eat when he was hungry and to lie in the sunshine, maybe walking down to the water for a swim if he was feeling really ambitious.

He explained this to Nick while he pinned a map to the bulletin board in the kitchen and start handing Joe pamphlets about art galleries, museums and walking tours.

"Dude, where did you even get this stuff?" Joe asked, waving a travel-guide at him.

Nick shrugged, "Hotel lobby, where else? I mean, come on, Joe, you have traveled before." Nick was using the bored tone he had when he wanted you to think something was too obvious to discuss. Nick was kind of a douche like that.

Joe shook his head fondly. "Yeah, with the JB entourage. S'not the same thing." He left the _and you know it_ unspoken.

"What about Australia?" Nick groused, past caring about the content of the argument, but still wanting to win.

"Smaller entourage."

Nick rolled his eyes but sat down, pushing the pamphlets into a small pile at the center of the kitchen table.

"I'll let you be lazy for the first couple days, but then we're actually going to go out and see the city. Really see it, Joe. Not just this touristy crap, that's just to get us started. To show us where we really want to go along the way."

Joe knew he'd fight for every minute of extra sleep and sloth he could get. It was the principle of the thing, but he could already see them, walking down the street without anyone following them, monitoring their every step and word. He imagined himself with his camera around his neck, saw Nick beside him in his mind's eye, walking in that swagger he'd perfected around 17, left thumb in his belt buckle, the other hand free to steer Joe when needed.

He turned away from the images in his mind and back to real Nick sitting before him, and felt another smile growing on his face.

This was clearly his best idea ever.

\---

Joe explored more of the house while Nick made lists and called various people who needed to be called. The hiatus was already set, six months carved away for Kevin and Danielle to live and be married, and then they'd reassess. Joe knew he'd probably get itchy for the stage and the road soon enough, but at the moment, wandering around in a sunlit villa with the sounds of his brother talking and moving around the only background noise, Joe couldn't imagine anywhere he'd rather be.

\---

Nick spent the rest of the morning making arrangements, talking to their dad, and fussing around online, getting a better lay of the land. Joe got that that sort of thing had to be done, but it was their first real time off in years. He needed to make the most of it. He needed Nick to. He needed them to take this time together and really relax, to just be brothers again.

After LVATT, things had been different. Their fans had started to change, they slowly grew out of being teeny-bop heartthrobs and into something like credible artists. They stopped making movies, and the TV show ended after one season. Joe had been afraid Nick would see those things as failures, but he'd been too driven to get them to that next level, too focused on getting their first Grammy (and then their second) and having their music finally taken seriously that sometimes Joe had wondered if Nick even noticed the things they lost along the way. Joe noticed. He missed it. Missed the goofy side they'd been able to cling to so long with Disney, missed filming, watching the way Nick would sometimes come loose even on screen, laughing like he meant it when Joe or Kevin's characters did something absurd. He missed the innocence of it, even if that had only been an illusion. When they switched labels to sign with Virgin Records for their fifth studio album Joe knew Nick felt like they'd finally arrived, like they'd won, and Joe felt nothing but pride for him, for the perseverance Nick had tirelessly applied to every aspect of their musical ascent, but he still thought about it sometimes. The way they used to be, the room Nick had had, at least for a little while, to still be a kid. That was long past now, and at 19, Nick was anything but a child, so grown into himself Joe had to do a double take sometimes, just to remind himself he was still looking at his brother, at the kid who spent hours practicing so he could throw a ball faster than anyone else, the kid who was once short enough to look up to him.

Joe was proud of the man Nick had become; he was proud of the accomplishments they'd shared together, as brothers, as a band. Nick was growing up just according to his own plan, and Joe was happy for him, but he still missed that kid he could break into a laugh without trying.

\---

After realizing they were hungry in a house with no food, Nick found a market online that they could walk to. They ambled down the side of the road together, and Joe stretched his shoulders up to catch more of the sun, grinned at Nick behind his sunglasses, and shouted just for the fun of it. They took a few wrongs turns but eventually found the market, a collection of stands under a tarp and a small air-conditioned butcher and bakery tucked in behind. Fresh fruit and vegetables were everywhere, along with breads Joe wanted to devour whole and the most spectacular collection of cheeses he'd ever been in the presence of.

He held a ball of mozzarella in one hand and a thick wedge of gouda in the other, inhaling blissfully. "I love it here, Nick," he said rapturously. "Let's never leave."

Nick laughed a little, but when he clapped Joe on the back and said, "Okay, Joe," he sounded like he wished they really could.

\---

Nick was really terrible at relaxing, which Joe probably shouldn't have been surprised about, considering that he'd never really tried it before. They'd taken breaks, sure, but Jonas Brothers time off was never like normal person time-off, and that always went triple if your name was Nick Jonas. Considering that, it really wasn't all that surprising that Nick couldn't sit still on a sunny deck and drink sugar-free iced tea to save his life, but Joe was still slightly unsettled by it. He was used to Nick being good at pretty much anything he tried.

He could tell it was upsetting Nick too, could see him trying not to shift impatiently out of the corner of his eye. He was getting bored, but he was trying to _beat it_ , that made Joe's chest hurt even while it made him want to laugh.

"It's too freaking hot here," he said, putting his glass down decisively. "I'm going for a swim. You want to come?"

The smile Nick gave him was stupid with relief, but Joe decided he'd let them go get away with pretending it was enthusiasm.

\---

After managing to get Nick to stop trying to do _laps_ in the freaking _ocean_ by dunking him repeatedly and miming dramatic shark attacks (as both the shark and the attackee), Joe let his body float to the surface of the water, and went slack with it, buoyed up by the gentle waves. Nick tread water around him for awhile before giving in and floating to his back as well, closing his eyes against the sunshine. Joe watched him for a second, took in the peaceful smile on Nick's lips, and then closed his own eyes.

Occasionally the waves drew them apart before bobbing them closer together again, and Joe spread out his arms over his head, fingers fanning out to catch Nick's when their hands touched.

\---

Dinner was pizza they ordered and a salad Nick made with spinach and strawberries and something crunchy and delicious that could have either been almond flakes or crushed walnuts. Either way, it was awesome, and Joe told him so between mouthfuls.

"Thanks," Nick said, voice overly thoughtful, "That means a lot, since I'm thinking of quitting the music business to be a master salad maker."

Joe ignored the increase in his heart rate, keeping his tone lazy as he played along. "Salads are important."

Nick nodded seriously. "This is what I'm saying. I feel I could make a valuable contribution in that crucial area."'

"You could," Joe said, eating another bite and then making a circle in the air with his fork. "You could make a real difference in people's lives."

Joe could see a smile fighting with the corners of Nick's mouth, but he struggle valiantly, keeping his voice even when he said, "I might need an assistant, though. You know, to really make the impact I feel is required."

Joe gave up and laughed out loud, but he didn't bother to hide the sincerity in his voice when he said, "I'm your guy."

\---

Joe suggested a walk after dinner, to explore the neighborhood a bit and in hopes of tiring Nick out enough that he'd sleep.

The night was hot, but there was enough of a breeze that it wasn't oppressive, and Joe liked the looseness in Nick's shoulders as they walked in step.

They came upon a cat sprawled on the sidewalk, curling happily on its back, and Joe bent down to pet it while Nick watched with his hands on his hips.

He said, "I wish we had Elvis up here with us," as if to reaffirm his position that dogs were superior to cats, but Joe didn't answer him. He stayed crouched down instead, scratching under the cat's neck and listening to it purr.

\---

Over the next few days, Nick got no better at relaxing. Joe comforted himself with the thought that at least the activities Nick constantly filled their days with were close approximations of leisure activities. They rented a pair of bikes and spent whole mornings biking around the city, going far from their beach-side neighborhood and into the heart of the city. They ate food from the street vendors and got tanned. They chained their bikes and walked in the afternoons, taking long coffee breaks on patios and shopping. In the time they'd been there, Joe had already purchased four new pairs of sunglasses, a pair of boots he was going to send to Kevin, two jackets, and a handful of shirts. Nick hadn't bought anything except groceries, but Nick was boring like that.

At night they went to smoky clubs and listened to live music, solo singers in tight red dresses and old men playing the blues, or stayed in and played video games. Well, Joe played video games. Nick e-mailed important people and participated in conference calls. That was the part where Nick really failed at relaxing, because even if they'd had leisurely, low-key fun all day, he'd still come back from the second bedroom he'd commandeered to be his office with knots in his shoulder and frown lines troubling his face. 

Joe would pull him close and, if Nick would let him, which he usually would, would try to massage the tension away, teasing him and making idle conversation until Nick's face would relax back into a half-smile.

He liked that Nick was letting him do that again, letting Joe get close. There'd been something like distance building between them over the past year or so before the wedding, and the trip pulled them back together. They'd still been close, best friends and brothers combining into something intangible but undeniably _more_ , but the older Nick had gotten, the less he'd let Joe close the physical distance between them, the less he'd been willing to let Joe hang all over him, hugging him on a whim. Joe understood it, got that it was just part of Nick's struggle to prove he could stand on his own. But even though it just a normal part of growing up, at least for Nick, Joe never stopped missing their closeness, never stopped striving to bring it back, and he was glad, now, that Nick was letting him. Better was that sometimes Nick even seemed to be working with him, sometimes being the one to hug first, arms thrown over shoulders and hands brushing often as they moved around the house.

Joe found he liked making meals with Nick, liked moving together in a rhythm so different from the one they'd always found together on stage. Liked it when he knew what to hand to Nick before he asked, liked watching him chop vegetables as he listened to Joe tell him a story he already knew, liked sitting down together and eating at the same table with no one else between them.

He was happier than he'd been in a long time, and when the week ended and they didn't leave, when the eighth and ninth days passed and Nick didn't so much as mention booking flights back to the States, Joe let this go without comment.

\---

After the second week passed in another stream of sun and food and swimming, biking and trying to teach each other Spanish words but eventually settling on just calling each other _hermano_ nonstop for three days straight, Joe felt like maybe it was finally time to say something.

He came back from a swim he'd taken alone, Nick begging off saying he had errands he wanted to run, and stopped short in the middle of the living room. Nick was working in the kitchen, humming to himself, which was all completely par for the course, but sitting on the couch was a guitar.

It was a new guitar. They hadn't brought any instruments with them; at the reception they'd played on instruments that belonged to the band Nick hired for the wedding.

Joe couldn't deny that he'd missed playing, but there was no reason to have a guitar here if they were going to go home any day now like they were supposed to be. As it was, they were already well past their expected return. Joe knew people back home were starting to wonder where they were; he'd overheard Nick's evasive halves of the conversations when he talked to their father on the phone.

He opened his mouth to try and say something, to get Nick's attention in the kitchen and make him talk about what they were doing, but as he tried to think of what he would say, Joe realized there was nothing he that _could_ say, not truthfully, that would sound like he actually wanted them to leave, so instead he closed his mouth and sat down on the couch. He looked at the guitar beside him for a second, and then he picked it up and started to play.

They fell into a routine after that. Joe recognized it had probably been happening gradually as the days passed, building into something since the moment they arrived, but it still took him by surprise to realize such a comfortable order was settling over their days. He could barely remember a time in his life when he'd been able to establish any kind of a routine for more than a day or two at a time, hardly even long enough to call it that.

But now they got up everyday just before it started to get hot, and Joe went for a run while Nick puttered around the house and yard. Joe would jog along the coast and down to the market, picking up fresh fruit for breakfast and carrying it back in his backpack. They'd eat breakfast together on the deck, watching people pass by. After breakfast they'd go swimming or set up in the living room with the guitar, playing around with bits of new songs and carefully staying away from thinking about whether or not Kevin would be there to play them with them someday. There were a couple of bistros they rotated going to for lunch and espresso, and then they'd bike back home for the afternoon and work more seriously on music. Even though they were playing a lot and Nick was making comments like he might even try to get a piano set up in the living room, the business parts of it were falling further and further away. Nick wasn't talking to people on the phone so much anymore, Joe barely saw him on his computer, but they were technically supposed to be taking real hiatus time from the band anyway, so Joe assumed Nick was finally letting himself take advantage of that. It felt good, too good to question, to just be getting back to the music. To write and play because that's something they loved do to together, to see it as an end in itself. Not worrying about who it had to please, or impress, not worrying about how well it would sell.

In the evenings they went out on the deck again and talked for hours, conversations veering aimlessly with little end in sight, the same easy, effortless way they'd lost night after night of sleep leaning together in the same hotel bed on countless tours. They never left the house after the dinner they made together unless they had things they needed to buy, preferring to spend most nights in, watching movies or playing dominoes. But it was cooler at night, and there were fewer people in the shops, so it was their preference to go then if they needed to. Joe had all the new clothes he could want, but there were other things they were slowly accumulating. A better coffee maker for the house, their own towels and sheets, more games for the Wii Joe brought along. 

Along with things, Joe realized they were starting to collect people. The servers at all their favorite restaurants and coffee bars knew them now; most even knew their orders. The cashiers at the market they shopped at and even the drugstore where they got their toothpaste and shaving cream knew them. They were picking up little bits of Spanish, not enough to be understood, really, but enough at least to say hello and goodbye, to be polite the way Nick always needed to be, no matter the situation. Nick even had a doctor in the city now, a place to get his insulin and testing kits. It was that most of all that made things seem suddenly permanent, that first trip they'd taken together to meet with Nick's new doctor and make sure everything was set up in case of an emergency. Joe could have stopped it then, in that moment, could have turned to Nick and asked him what he thought they were doing here, why they were setting up roots when they were supposed to be going home, but instead he'd squeezed Nick's shoulder when he looked at Joe uncertainly, had smiled and listened carefully to all the doctor's instructions even though he already knew the ins and outs of taking care of someone with diabetes by heart.

\---

They were gone a month before their dad called Joe.

He honestly didn't even realize it had been that long until he picked up his phone and his father said, "Joseph, do you realize it's been a _month_ since we left you and your brother in Barcelona?"

Joe blinked and looked out the kitchen window. Nick was on his knees in the front yard, digging up dirt. It looked like he was starting a garden.

"Sorry, dad, yeah, I did know that, or well, basically, but--"

"Your mother's starting to get worried. Your brothers miss you."

Joe was startled by the plural, "Kevin's back?"

His father sighed. "It's been a month, Joe. Kevin and Danielle got back from their honeymoon almost a week ago. They've moved into their new house. They're talking about--" he cut himself off with another sigh. "The family needs you boys home. There are things we need to discuss. Plans for the future."

"It's just a vacation, dad, we're on a vacation," Joe replied sharply, unable to keep the bite out of his tone. "We've been working straight for almost ten years! You don't think we've earned that? You don't think _Nick_ has?"

"That's not what I'm saying," his dad protested, voice growing softer. "This isn't about wanting you to start working again, this is about wanting you home. Both of you."

Joe was still looking out the window as they spoke, and he watched Nick's hands disappear into the dirt, pulling up weeds. He wiped his brow with a muddy hand and squinted up at the sun. There was a smile on his face.

"Not yet."

"Joseph--"

"Not yet, dad, okay? Not yet." His tone was pleading, but more than that, it was final.

There was a long silence, and then his dad said, "All right. Not yet." He sighed one more time and said, "You take care of Nick, you hear me?"

"Yeah, dad. I hear you."

\---

Joe stayed standing in the kitchen watching Nick for a long time before he went out to him, pushing through the screen door and walking out onto the lawn.

"Kevin's home," he said as nonchalantly as he could manage.

Nick's shoulders went rigid, but he took a moment to compose himself, relaxing them then into a lax curve before turning around to raise his eyebrows at Joe.

"Dad called," Joe explained, watching Nick carefully.

He got up and wiped his hands on his jeans, meeting Joe's gaze dead on.

"We should call him. Kevin." Nick said, voice even.

Joe nodded. "Yeah, we should."

Nick paused, biting his lip a little, looking down at the torn up dirt at his feet. "I'm going to try and grow basil, maybe some oregano and thyme." 

Joe wanted to make a pun about already having enough time, wanted to tell Nick they should be calling Kevin right now instead of staying around talking about it, but instead he just said, "Sounds good, Nicky," and took it as a victory when Nick didn't correct him.

He hadn't let Joe call him _Nicky_ in years.

\---

They finally called after another week and a half, when Joe broke one of his guitar strings and suddenly missed Kevin so bad he thought his throat was going to close up.

They put him on speaker, lying on their stomachs on Nick's bed, the phone resting between them.

Kevin's voice was higher, tinny on the bad cell connection, but he sounded so happy Joe almost wanted to cry.

"I miss you guys!" Kevin shouted, laughing a little. "Dad says you're still in Barcelona, I don't blame you, it's so beautiful there - Joe, I have to thank you, it really was the only place I would have wanted to have the wedding."

"You've thanked me already, man. And besides, I'm just glad it worked out. I would have hated to be fired as your favorite best-man."

Nick jostled him roughly with a shoulder, but Joe just grinned and leaned into the phone.

"Nick says he's always known you loved me best, but he understands cause he does too."

Kevin chuckled, "That's right, Joe. We all love you best."

"Damn right."

"How was the honeymoon?" Nick asked, rolling his eyes at Joe.

"Awesome!" Kevin said, possibly using the word more sincerely than it had ever been before. "The scuba diving in South Padre was amazing, and Danielle is so much better than me at para-sailing, but I didn't even care, and the resort was so beautiful - we had our own little cottage right by the water. We stayed in for days just--"

"We don't need those kind of details, Kev," Joe interrupted him, laughing.

Kevin snorted, "Like I would tell you them. I was going to say just talking and making meals. Just being together, you know?"

Joe looked up and found Nick was already looking back at him. He swallowed and wondered why Nick suddenly seemed so much closer, why the freckles on his cheeks looked so clear, why his eyes looked so big.

He tore his eyes again from Nick and looked back down at the phone, even though he knew Kevin couldn't see him when he said, "Yeah, Kev. Think we do."

\---

They talked for almost an hour, hearing more tales of the Best Honeymoon Ever and telling Kevin a little bit about their adventures in Barcelona. 

When they finally ended the call, Nick jumped off the bed and immediately started pacing.

Joe hung back, shifting from his stomach to his side, watching him.

Nick wrung his hands together as he paced, his face serious, dark.

"He's not coming back to the band," he said with assured finality, not looking at Joe, barely sounding like he was talking to him.

Joe responded anyway, "Nick, you don't know that."

Nick laughed, harsh and short. "Joe, you heard how happy he sounded. That's not just some afterglow from a couple of fun weeks of sunshine and tropical fish. That's from being with Danielle, from starting their life together. This is what he wants now - what he needs - and we can't," his voice broke, eyes darting everywhere but at Joe. "We can't take that from him. Can't ask him to give it up. Maybe not ever."

Joe's heart was racing but he tried to keep his voice calm, "Nick, come on, it's barely been a month, he's just settling in - we knew this hiatus would go on for longer than this - we said at least six months--"

"He wants _kids_ , Joe. Can you imagine Kevin with kids? He's going to be such a good dad. Way too good a dad to leave his kids and his wife and go back on the road with his little brothers." Nick's voice was rising, he wasn't pacing anymore but he was clearly working himself up into a frenzy, the kind of fit he almost never allowed himself the luxury of, not even when he was little, storing frustrations and disappointments and fears away until they exploded out of him like it looked like they were starting to now.

Joe knew there was almost nothing he could do for Nick, not in a moment like this, but still he tried to reason with him, tried to say, "Nick, he didn't say anything about--"

"Joe, please!" he almost shouted, eyes beseeching. If there was one thing Nick never wanted, it was to be coddled. To be protected from the hardest truth. "You know that's what he wants. You _know_ him. Kevin's done. He's ready to be a husband and a father, ready to stop living the dream and start living his life. And we have to let him." 

Joe opened his mouth, said, "Nick," plaintively, wanting him to stop, for both their sakes, but he shut Joe down with a wild look, shaking his head over and over.

He started pacing again, too, his hands twitching violently at his sides, flicking his wrists over and over. "I don't want to do this without you guys--" his wands moved faster and faster with every word he spoke, "I tried it once and it wasn't - it wasn't _right_. Without you and Kevin, I'm just--"

And then Nick's arms were waving and his face was contorted, he looked like he was splitting open, and without realizing he'd moved, Joe found himself on his feet, halfway to Nick before he even had time to think. He crossed the rest of the distance willingly, pulling Nick close and stilling his arms, whispering Nick's name and begging him to calm down.

Nick kept thrashing, breath ragged, until Joe pressed a kiss against Nick's forehead and said, "Come back to me, Nick, come on, come back."

Nick's arms suddenly tightened around Joe as if he'd only then realized Joe was even there, and Joe did his best to steady them both. "I can't lose you too," Nick said, clinging blindly to Joe, "I won't, I won't."

Joe made more desperate attempts at soothing sounds, pressing his lips to whatever part of Nick they could reach, saying, "You've got me, you've got me," over and over.

\---

Once Nick finally calmed down enough that Joe felt okay letting go of him, they walked down to the beach and sat there in silence, watching the waves.

After a collection of minutes, Nick shifted closer to Joe in the sand, and Joe raised his arm, making room for Nick to tuck himself underneath it and then tightening the arm around him.

Nick pressed his face into Joe's chest before turning back to the water, saying, "I love you, Joe," sounding suddenly and desperately uncertain at how Joe would respond.

Joe squeezed him closer and said, "I know you do, Nicky, it's okay, I know you do."

\---

Nick was so exhausted he eventually fell asleep against Joe, his head lolling against Joe's shoulder. Joe didn't even think of waking him, just readjusted his hold on Nick, pulling him down gently so that his head was resting in Joe's lap, body curled loosely around him.

Nick made a sound in his sleep but didn't wake, and Joe began running his fingers gently through Nick's hair, humming a half forgotten lullaby as the waves rose and fell in the distance.

\---

They didn't talk about Kevin or the band or going home or really anything. For days it was all Joe could to get Nick to keep eating, to keep checking his levels, to keep upright. They went to the beach everyday, not even swimming, just sitting side by side in the sunshine and in the rain, smelling of sunscreen and sand. Joe told stories he wasn't even sure Nick was listening too, just talking about whatever he could think of to fill up the silence. Sometimes Nick would give Joe a few words back, just enough to show Joe he was still trying to listen, at least, but it was never like they were actually talking, having a real conversation. 

Nick was too far away from him for that, so Joe held onto Nick like an anchor, trying to keep some part of him grounded to this place, not lost to a thousand doubts and worries, a hundred brilliant plans for the future disappearing in Nick's mind's eye. Joe held on because it was all Nick let him do, kept an arm around him or twined their hands together, doing anything he could think of to remind Nick he was still there, that he wasn't going anywhere.

\---

On the fifth day Nick wouldn't even get out of bed. When Joe came to wake him he just rolled over and burrowed his head deeper under the blankets, resolute, so Joe climbed into it with him. They slept for hours, not waking again until the late afternoon.

Joe got Nick up, finally, got him to eat. Made him shower, realizing it had been days.

When he came back showered and in clean clothes, looking almost like himself again, Joe sat down beside him at the table and said, "This has got to stop, Nick."

Nick's eyes widened, flashing panic, and Joe put a hand on his knee under the table to steady him.

"I'm not saying we have to go anywhere, I'm not saying I want to leave." He looked at his brother imploringly. "I just need you to start talking to me again. I need you here with me again."

Nick looked down at Joe's hand, still braced over his knee, and sighed slowly before covering Joe's hand with his own. "I'm with you, Joe," he said, voice rough from underuse, but genuine. His eyes looked clearer, meeting Joe's.

Joe squeezed Nick's knee and then his hand before pulling away. "Okay, then. Let's go buy you a piano."

\---

They bought Nick a baby grand, and set it up in the living room, in front of the windows that looked out onto the ocean, so Nick could play it with the sun falling across the black and white keys. Joe made sure they got a bench big enough for him to comfortably sit beside Nick while he played, murmuring suggestions and just watching him. Watching his fingers sail across the keys like they belonged there, like Nick was born just for that. Sometimes he'd rest his chin on Nick's shoulder and blow into his ear, but Nick never messed up, never even paused. It became a game between them that Joe was fine with losing, just as long as he could see the smug little smile on Nick's face when he finished another piece perfectly despite Joe's distractions.

They wrote more music, sitting together at the piano, Joe's back to the keys, cradling his guitar. They were different from the songs they'd ever tried to put together for the band, different just because Kevin wasn't there to make suggestions, wasn't there to reign in Joe's flare for dramatic bouts of reckless musical abandon, wasn't there to temper Nick's desire to write every note perfectly, rewriting over and over until it really was. This mix of chaos and perfection blended into something Joe felt like he'd never heard before, a new sound that belonged to him and Nick alone.

\---

After the piano they sent out forms to get their mail redirected, they applied for visas, and Joe bought a Japanese peace-lily.

Then they bought a pair of motorcycles, since cars were practically useless in Barcelona and because Joe plain missed his own back in Texas. Nick had never ridden one before, despite being responsible for Joe owning one in the first place, so for the first couple of times he just took Nick on the back of his, not even trying to deny that he loved the feel of Nick's arms wrapped around his chest, gripping him tight and laughing from the exhilaration of it all, the speed and the beauty that blurred past them.

He loved it so much he was almost sad to give Nick lessons, teaching him slowly how to use his own bike, how to be safe, how to be good. The first time Nick was ready to go further than their driveway, Joe rode on the back with him, joking that if Nick was going to crash and burn, he at least wanted to be there to go down with him.

He really did mean it as a joke but it came out serious, despite the little laugh he awkwardly threw on at the end, and Nick looked back at him just as seriously, stepping close and running a hand up Joe's shoulder to his neck, squeezing.

He didn't say anything after that, just put on his helmet and jumped on the bike, trusting Joe to follow.

\---

After three months Joe had stopped answering his phone when his dad called him, having run out of ways to tell him they weren't coming home without trying to explain why. He could barely think about that himself, let alone explain it to someone else. 

It was November, and back in Texas he imagined the house was full of preparations for Thanksgiving, but all thinking about that made Joe realize was that he'd stopped thinking of their estate back in Dallas as _home_ long ago.

Home was where Nick was, and bit by bit it was becoming here, in the strange and beautiful house Nick had found for them, in the rooms where they made music that was just their own and sang without consequence, in the kitchen where they cooked together and in their morning rides into town.

Home was the conversations they fell asleep having on Nick's bed, in the way Joe moved from lingering in the doorway saying goodnight to striding unthinkingly into the room, climbing into bed with him. It was in the toothbrushes that rested side by side in the blue glass jar Nick found for them on the cart of a old woman who smiled with all her teeth, in the warm silences shared over dinner, in the battles over dominoes won and lost. Home was their favorite coffee and croissants on still warm afternoons; it was in their hands, coming instinctively, necessarily together as they walked.

Some cliches were cliches for a reason, and if home was where the heart was, Joe couldn't say he was surprised to find these things true for himself, because he'd always known that his heart belonged to Nick.

\---

In December, it rained, and almost nothing but. They were driven indoors, playing endless games of dominoes and writing strange, claustrophobic songs. Nick got snappy and tired a week in, and at first he shrugged Joe's concerns off, swearing he was fine, it was just the weather and the closed quarters getting to him, but when he nearly passed out brushing his teeth one evening, Joe's panic would no longer be ignored and he called for a car immediately, huddling Nick into it when it arrived and rushing him to Nick's doctor. 

He'd called as they drove, and they were paying enough that he knew he was on call if needed, so the doctor was there when they arrived.

Joe paced, white knuckled and cursing himself for not paying better attention, but after a twenty-minute exam the doctor pronounced Nick to be run down, with a rather severe cold, but not in any serious danger.

Joe almost collapsed with relief, and Nick smiled at him weakly.

"Just a little bit longer," he said, voice dry and lightly mocking.

Joe shook his head and came closer, his voice entirely different when he said, "You'll be fine."

\---

Despite the doctor's reassurance, over the next few days Joe bullied Nick into bed rest and and lots of it. Maybe it was because he really was feeling that crappy, or maybe just because he knew how much he'd scared Joe, but Nick submitted to this with almost no complaint. 

Joe camped out with Nick most of the time, so in some ways it wasn't really that different than before. They still spent all their time together, still filled their hours with familiar banter and even more comforting bickering, talking of nothing and scribbling down their words on pages of half formed lyric sheets. 

On the third day of Nick's recuperation, Joe attempted to make him soup. It came out mostly broth and half cooked vegetables, but Nick ate it anyway, and when he looked at Joe over spoonfuls, there was more light in his eyes than Joe had seen in ages.

\---

When Nick was mostly better, enough that Joe felt okay leaving him, but still not feeling great enough to venture out into the world, Joe rode inland alone to get groceries.

He moved quickly throughout the stores, not pausing to make small talk with the regulars he was beginning to recognize, the ones who would smile indulgently as he attempted to speak to them in Spanish, or the cashiers who were usually happy to practice their English on him.

On his last stop, though, his favorite clerk was there, Marita with the long black hair and the smile that promised she knew more about the world than Joe could ever hope to, and he smiled back at her because he realized it had been weeks since he'd smiled at anyone but Nick.

"And where is your friend today, uh?" She asked with that same smile, cocking her chin up at him. "Tu guapo novio?"

Joe blinked a little, wondering if he'd understood right. He'd learned the Spanish word for _handsome_ almost immediately, much to Nick's amusement, but he didn't know _novio_. He couldn't usually cope with slang, maybe another word for brother?

"Qué significa _novio_?" he asked, smiling uncertainly.

She finished bagging his groceries and winked at him. He raised his eyebrows and she tossed her head a little, trying again, "Amante... lover."

Joe stumbled back, shock rolling off him, and he almost bumped into another customer.

Marita looked at him curiously, but he just shook his head, grabbing his bag and tossing down a bunch of bills, turning and rushing out of the store without a second glance.

\---

The whole ride back Joe was numb, his mind shut down, but as soon as the house was in view reality slammed back into him. Novio. Amante. Lover. These were the words people used to describe them now? Was this really what they'd become to each other without Joe even realizing it?

He parked his bike and walked up to the house slowly, weighing every step. When he went inside he saw immediately that Nick was up. The house was tidier, there was music playing over the speakers they'd placed throughout the house. 

He shouted a hello and carried the groceries into the kitchen, not surprised to find Nick there, making coffee. Nick smiled at him warmly and walked right over to him, taking the bags out of his hands and ducking in casually to kiss Joe's cheek.

"Have a good time?" Nick asked, already turned back around to the espresso machine, measuring the coffee grounds carefully.

Joe touched his hand to his cheek, wondering how many times he'd kissed and been kissed in that way without even thinking about it, wondering how many times he'd let them cross over the lines of normal brotherly closeness into something else, all because he was so desperately glad to have Nick back at all. To share the same space with him again. To touch, to be touched.

"Joe?" Nick prompted after he remained silent too long.

He shook his head. "It was fine. Not too busy." It was on his tongue to say, "I missed you," because he had, but he paused to wonder about that, to ask himself why. He'd been gone for less than two hours. 

Nick finished with the coffee and came back into Joe's line of sight, face leaning in to assess Joe critically. He put his hands on Joe's shoulders and moved him, manhandling him gently onto one of the kitchen chairs.

"Are you feeling okay? You've been so busy taking care of me I think we forgot you might get sick too." He smiled playfully. "Want to see if I can make better soup than you?"

Joe said, "No," too sharp and too fast, and Nick's smile faltered.

He dropped smoothly into a crouching position, looking up at Joe, hands on his knees. "What's wrong, Joe?"

Joe looked away, trying to pull himself together.

Nick drew circles in Joe's jeans with his thumbs, waiting.

It wasn't what he thought he was going to say, but Joe heard himself blurt, "Is this our house, Nick?" Eyes roving around the room, this perfect, sunny kitchen with the black and white tiled floor and the glass cupboard doors, the marble countertops and the blender they'd bought to make smoothies, the espresso machine only Nick knew how to work. He craned his neck and looked out the window down onto Nick's thriving herb garden, thought of the ocean beyond that, thought of the grapes they picked as they grew up the side of the house, thought of the bedroom he barely thought of as his own anymore, thought of the guitar and the piano. All the little ways they were making this place theirs, all the while pretending like they actually believed they were just visiting, renting the place from some mythical professor who wouldn't mind the changes they were making, wouldn't mind that they were staying for an ever increasing indefinite amount of time. He thought of this and knew it couldn't possibly be happening as effortlessly as he'd let himself imagine, knew the answer in his heart as he finally looked back to Nick. "Is it?" He asked again, voice softer.

Nick looked sober, not guilty exactly, just ready to face what he was being asked to face, when he said, "It could be. If you wanted it to be."

Maybe it should have been harder to decide, but Joe found he barely had to think before he was responding, "Yeah, Nick. I want it to be."

\---

Joe called Kevin that night while Nick made dinner. He went up to the bedroom he hadn't slept in in almost a month, closing the door behind him quietly.

It was early in Texas, but Kevin answered right away, his voice betraying worry as he said, "Joe?"

"Yeah, it's me." He found he didn't know what to say after that.

"People are starting to freak out, Joe. You have to come home." Kevin pressed when Joe stayed silent.

"We can't. We're not." Joe pushed the words out, wishing they made enough sense on their own, wishing he didn't have to say more than just that.

"Joe, I get that Nick is upset about what's going to happen with the band - and I can't deny that I've been seriously considering what it would be like to do more than just take time off, but that's never a decision I would make without you guys - it's not something that has to--"

"It's not even about that," Joe cut him off, voice tight and strangled sounding. It came out smaller when he said, "Not just. Not anymore."

Joe shut his eyes and waited for Kevin to sigh, to ask him what it _was_ about, then, but he didn't. He was silent for a very long time, and then he said, "Okay."

"What?" Joe croaked.

"I said okay. Okay you're not coming home. Okay I'll find a way to explain it to mom and dad. Okay, Joe. Okay." Kevin didn't sound angry, he didn't sound hysterical or even surprised. He sounded defeated. He sounded sad.

"We're--" Joe tried to say, gave up and sighed. He shook his head and tried again, "It's not forever, it's not - we'll come back. I mean, not for - we'll visit." His eyes prickled, and he realized he was crying. He fought the tears, fought for a way to explain, but in the end, " _Kevin_ ," was all he could say.

"It's okay, Joe," he murmured automatically, voice low, soothing. "It's okay."

\---

Nick and Joe managed to avoid each other for the rest of the night, despite eating together, and Joe slept in his old room. Calling it sleeping might have been something of an exaggeration, but he definitely lay in his own bed all night. 

At around seven, he gave up on trying to fall asleep and put on jogging clothes and the sneakers he bought their day by themselves in Barcelona. He hesitated for a minute in the doorway, and then turned back into the house, writing Nick a note letting him know he'd be back in a few hours before finally leaving the house.

He ran until he couldn't anymore, lungs burning, legs aching. He'd gone further than he ever had, ending up in a neighborhood he didn't recognize. He sat on a curb for a long time, catching his breath, head in his knees. When he was finally recovered enough that he thought he could face the long walk back, he got up and found someone who tolerated his still nearly nonexistent Spanish to ask directions back to the highway that hugs the coastline, knowing he could find his way back from there.

He considered calling Nick, getting him to come pick him up on one of the motorcycles, but he couldn't face him yet. The run had calmed him, worn him out enough that he hadn't needed to think, but there was still thinking to be done, and a walk would do him good. He'd know the answer by the time he got home.

\---

Joe was halfway back before he was able to process, to accept, that it really, truly didn't matter what else he had to give up. It didn't matter if they never played music in public again. It didn't matter if he never got to really try for an acting career, it didn't matter, even though it hurt, it hurt so much, that they would only see their family a couple times a year. If that. It didn't matter who they would lose or what people would think of them. He'd loved his life in all it's extravagant forms, all the wild things they'd done, the people they'd gotten to see, the lives they'd touched. He'd loved the stage and the screaming girls, loved the music and the rush and the fame, but that had always just been the icing. So many bright and implausible perks filling up his life, but at the end of the day, all Joe had ever truly wanted, ever truly needed, was Nick.

Being in a band, being on tour and in movies and TV, every facet of their fame, the Jonas Brothers machine, for Joe it had always been, unconsciously and at times very consciously, about staying with Nick. About keeping Nick with him, about having him longer and closer than any normal life would have ever allowed.

If the music wasn't his excuse anymore, what Joe was realizing was that maybe he finally didn't need one. On the outside, maybe, sure. But between them, now, as the two adults they were finally starting to be, not growing up but growing together, maybe it really was time they stopped needing those illusions between them. Maybe that was what Nick had already known, what he'd seen that had made him find this place for Joe to come home to, what had made him carve out a space in the world for only they two.

\---

He half-jogged the rest of the way home, desperately eager to get home to Nick, but when he ran up the driveway he stopped short at what he saw.

Nick was out in the lawn, wearing ripped cut-offs and one of Joe's plaid shirts. There was a pile of wood around him, a toolbox at his right. He had two nails in his mouth and a hammer in his hand.

"Dude, what the hell are you doing?" Joe demanded, voice caught somewhere between a laugh and worry.

Nick looked up sharply, surprise indicating he'd been too focused on the task to hear Joe arrive, and his eyes lit up with relief for a second before he took the nails out of his mouth and said, a touch defiantly, "I'm building a rocking chair."

At that, Joe did laugh. "Why?"

Nick frowned and fit two pieces together, hammering them carefully before responding. "I wanted one."

Joe shook his head. "So why didn't you just _buy_ one?"

Nick shrugged mulishly. "This one will be better."

Joe ran a hand through his sweaty hair, not even able to laugh anymore. "I told you I was coming back. I left a note."

Nick frowned harder. "I know that."

"You didn't have to go make a _rocking chair,_ "

Nick stopped glaring at his half-formed creation and turned the glare on Joe. "There is nothing symbolic about this rocking chair, Jo _seph_. I just think it'll be cool to have one on the deck." His tone was measured, just a little too much so to be believed. There was worry there, under than slightly snotty confidence.

Joe smiled, a little sad, but mostly fond. With Nick, there usually was.

He walked the rest of the distance between them, and crouched down beside Nick, taking the hammer out of his hand and tilting his chin up so Nick would look at him.

"Will you make me one too?" he asked, leaning closer as he spoke so their lips almost touched.

Nick's eyes went huge and he started to smile, big and full of joy, and Joe smiled too, finding he couldn't do anything else. He leaned back a little, just to see Nick's smile better, but he instantly missed the closeness, and after a second he drew back in, meeting Nick halfway and kissing him so their smiles touched. It didn't feel shocking, or wrong. As their lips collided Nick made a soft sound at the back of his throat and pulled Joe closer, hands gripping tightly onto his clothes, and as Joe deepened the kiss, tracing the inside of Nick's mouth with his tongue, it felt just like coming home.


End file.
